


Walk Down Memory Lane

by BeezandBitches



Series: Four Troublemakers [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Talk about the past, The four horsepeople are more human than they’d like to admit, The four horsepeople are their kids, cleaning out a bookshop, ineffable fathers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 09:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20445026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeezandBitches/pseuds/BeezandBitches
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley reorganize the bookshop every few years, this year their four troublemaking kids decide to pay them a visit and help out.





	Walk Down Memory Lane

**Author's Note:**

> I love them so much ok? Please check out my oneshot series “Four Shall Ride as One (Oneshots)” for more horsepeople content, I update that pretty consistently. Leave some love and have a lovely day.

Aziraphale’s bookshop has never once in it’s over 200 years of being open had a cohesive organization system. At least, it never had one that made much sense to anyone except the owner and possibly his demonic lover. Dates were all over the place as were authors and even printing press companies. There was no reason nor rhyme to it, the shop simply existed in a state of comfortable chaos. 

That’s not to say Aziraphale never tidied up the shop. On the contrary, he enjoyed taking a few days every few years to close up shop and “organize”. With the help of a tiny miracle 

it would be done in an instant, but Aziraphale had decided long ago that this could be done the human way. Crowley suggested once that it was really because that gave him a few days to enjoy with no customers attempting to buy any of his collection. Aziraphale had a hard time convincingly denying that.

Today was the first day of his current clean up process. Doors were locked, signs turned, and bookshelves were practically bare by the first hour. Aziraphale’s thesis was to empty the canvas first before you work on the newest painting. Piles and piles of books weaved through the store, like a maze with no end. Crowley was helping Aziraphale remove some of the last books on a shelf near the front when there was a very loud knocking on the doors.

“Now who could that be?” Crowley asked as he turned to the front door while Aziraphale placed another two books on the small pile in his arms.

“I have no earthly idea but we are clo-“ Aziraphale started to shout, only to be cut off by the sound of the doors slamming open, nearly knocking the entry bell off its hinges.

“Hey Pops, its us!” The familiar tone of a red-clad woman rang out. When Aziraphale and Crowley got a better look at who had arrived, they saw War, moving her leg back down as though she  _ kicked in _ the front door, along with Pollution, Famine, and Death. All in their appropriate color coordinated attire.

“Well if it isn’t the four troublemakers.” Crowley chuckled as he put down the stack and sauntered over to the front, followed by Aziraphale.

“Ah, my dears! Lovely to see you.” Aziraphale perked up, feeling almost guilty to have nearly screamed at his own ‘children’. “Do come in.” He motioned inside as they walked in. The four’s eyes wandered to the hurricane-state of the bookshop before Aziraphale let out an awkward chuckle. “Excuse the mess, we were just starting to reorganize.”

“It’s fine, I just don’t think I could’ve imagined the place  _ more  _ full.” War said as she saw stacks of four hundred year old novels that would reach the ceiling. 

“You sure do have a lot of books.” Pollution said. “Most are older than me.”

“That just means you’re a baby.” Crowley said as he ruffled their frizzy white hair. Pollution only stuck out their tongue at him. “So what’re you four doing in London?” 

“There’s going to be a festival going on around Soho in a couple days, so we came to see if you two’d like to join us.” Famine said as he lightly flipped through a book at the top of a random stack.

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you, my dears. But you didn’t have to come all this way to ask us, you could’ve called.” Aziraphale said, only to notice the awkward neck rubbing and averted eyes of three of his four indirect creations.

“THEY REALLY WANTED TO SEE YOU BOTH.” Death admitted for their fellow riders, getting a series of embarrassed glares in return. “AS DID I.” Crowley couldn’t help but smile. Guess the apples didn’t fall far from the tree.

“You’re welcome to stay and help us out here if you want. We could use the extra hands. Right, Angel?” Crowley said as he turned to Aziraphale, who’s eyes lit up at the suggestion.

“Oh that’s a wonderful idea, Crowley! Won’t you four stay?” You can’t really deny a heavenly angel’s request, especially when he’s your dad.

“I think we have time.” Famine said as the other horsepeople nodded.

“Fantastic, c’mon now. Help us move some of these books down to the kitchen.” Crowley heaved as he picked up his original stack.

And so day one of ‘Family Shop Organizing’ began.

————

They had been cleaning up the shelves for about an hour when, inevitably, someone found something that could distract not only them but the others around them. In this case, it was Pollution finding an old 1920s Almanac with a very familiar looking redhead’s picture printed inside.

“Carmine look, you’re famous.” Pollution joked as they showed off the booklet to her.

“Ohh, I forgot all about this!” War gaped as she snatched the book from their oily fingers. “Man, I look amazing sequins and feathers.”

“What is it?” Famine asked as he, Crowley, Death, and Aziraphale peeked out from behind a different shelf.

“I had heard from a couple little rats in Hell that the American stock market was gonna crash so I decided to go out partying while there was still booze available.” She said. “You both were busy that coming decade.”

“We left just enough for you and Grim to handle during the 40s.” Pollution said. “Fantastic work on the weaponry, by the way. The air had never been dirtier.”

“Don’t thank me, that one was all humanity. I just showed up for the fun of it.” One of the largest wars in human history wasn’t typically considered ‘fun’, but it was her nature.

“You four, always busy.” Aziraphale chuckled awkwardly. You can only support your children’s ineffable fates as havoc inducing immortals so much before it gets a little strange. Crowley patted his angel’s back, as if to let him know he’s got this.

“If we’re going down memory lane, take a look at this.” He said as he waved a black leather book in the air. “Old sketches from Leo.”

“You keep that here?” War asked as she leaned back on a heavy stack. “Thought you’d have it behind that big sketch of you in your apartment.”

“Well you know, it  _ is  _ a first edition book.”

“Wait- Do you mean-“ Pollution slowly connected the dots. “Pops,  _ you  _ were Mona Lisa?”

“What, can’t recognize your own soul and spirit?” Crowley chuckled. Flesh and blood didn’t quite apply with supernatural entities. “Ol’ Leo didn’t just sketch me, though. Take a look.”

He flipped through the leather-bound journal until he landed on a particular face. Famine’s face. A few pages of the book were dedicated to bust sketches of him, along with a close up of his eyes. Da Vinci had always been inspired by the eyes of his models.

“Ooh, makes you almost not look like a dork.” Pollution chuckled as Famine tossed a book at them, which they dodged easily. Thanks to a little demonic miracle, the book landed perfectly on a pile of other books. “Soooo.. what was he? A long forgotten lover?” They teased

“You’re just jealous that no notable humans have fancied you yet. Can’t say I'm surprised.” Famine said, a sly yet tender smile on his lips. “We were.. frequent acquaintances, nothing more. Met while I worked in Italy. Lovely little place, Vinci. Too bad for their crops.” 

“That’s bullshit.” War said.

“This coming from the one who still refuses to admit her failed attempts with one Grace O’Malley.” Famine pokes to which War’s cheeked flushed bright red. Crowley held back a slight laugh.

“Carmine you went after O’Malley?” He asked, almost in disbelief. “Would’ve been easier to catch a speeding train. I know, I went up against her once in a fight. Nasty right hook. Nearly discorporated me.”

“That’s because you were drunk, dear.” Aziraphale corrected him.

“A pirate queen is just my style, Dad.” War said “But it’s fine, she was focused on her goals. I respect that.”

“She rejected you four times.” Famine said nonchalantly.

“THREE OF WHICH SHE NEARLY SHOT YOU.” Death said.

“But she didn’t!” She protested. This only earned her an eyeroll. “Least I’m not a chicken. You won’t even admit you’re in love with Frannie.” 

“She got you there, Rav.” Pollution nodded. Famine only grumbled as the eyes of his fathers turned to him, slow and piercing. War and Pollution and even Death couldn’t hold back devilish smirks as the two went full invasive parent mode.

“You’re in love?” Aziraphale asked excitedly. “Oh Raven, that’s wonderful!”

“What’s she like?” Crowley asked. “Where’d you meet?”

“How long have you known each other?” 

“Guuuuys!” He groaned, covering his face. “You’re embarrassing me.” He slowly uncovered his face. “Her name’s Frannie, she’s my assistant. She’s really pretty and could kick my ass if she wanted to. We met in an interview at a Starbucks.” He took every chance he could to talk about Frannie, he wasn’t stupid.

“You embarrass yourself every day by being you.” War said. “Wanna tell our fathers how you’ve been pining for her for a solid decade and can’t pop the L-word yet?”

“...Only a decade?” Crowley blinked. “Try 6,000 years.”

“What?” Three of the four asked. Only Death nodded knowingly.

“See, me and Angel didn’t exactly.. get together,” Crowley said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Until rather recently.”

“ _ What?” _ The three repeated, surprised.

“But you’re  _ always  _ together?” Pollution said.

“And you’ve been calling each other pet names as long as I can remember?” War said.

“And you risked your lives for one another several times?” Famine said.

“It was.. complicated.” Aziraphale said, blushing at the fact. “We were in love with one another, just, both rather blind to it.”

“OUR FATHERS WERE IN NEED OF NEW PRESCRIPTION GLASSES.” Death joked. “OR NEW SETS OF EYES.”

“Listen here, young skeleton.” Crowley said. “You may be right but  _ hey _ .”

“Wow. Hotter burn than Alexandria.” War said as she walked over to Aziraphale who had started to stack books back into the shelves. “Remember that place, Dad?”

“Of course, how could I forget?” Aziraphale said. “Oh, I loved going there, it was so peaceful.” He sighed slightly before shaking his head. “I was only able to save a handful of academic scrolls, sadly. Crowley saved quite a number of poetry scrolls, though. I have all of them in practically new condition.”

“I’m still so sorry about all of that..” War apologized as she stacked beside him. “I  _ told _ Caesar it wasn’t a good idea. But did he listen to me? No!”

“It’s not your fault, Carmine.” He assured her. “Humans will do as they please more times than not.” 

“Like all those dumb people who try to go into radioactive sights for a youtube video.” Pollution hopped up on a ladder to try and reach a higher shelf. Curse their short legs. “There’s signs, dumbasses.”

“Or people who will wait in line for an hour or three just to get an over-priced, deep fried ice cream.” Famine added as he handed Pollution a few books.

“OR THOSE WHO TRY TO RUN FROM ME.” Death laughed in quite possibly the least humorous way imaginable as they got more books to put back.

“Or all the people who try and pick up the coins I glue to the streets instead of ignoring them.” Crowley said. “Humanity, strange creatures.”

“My dear boy, you try to pick up your own coins.”

“Not in front of the kids, Angel!”

The laughter of four eternal troublemakers rang out through the messy bookshop.

————-

It may have taken two full days-“ War groaned as she fell into a comfy chair, arms limply hanging off the sides.

“And at least six cups of cocoa  _ per _ day-“ Pollution added, falling face first onto Aziraphale’s couch.

“But we’re done now.” Famine finished, practically curling up in the recliner.

“IT'S A LOT OF WORK, BUT RATHER REWARDING.” Death said as they pushed the final book into its place for the totally arbitrary organization system. Now, a total of six beings knew how Aziraphale’s shop currently worked.

“And I think, such hard work deserves a treat and a trip.” Aziraphale said as he walked out of the kitchen, a tray full of more cocoa mugs in hand. “How’s about we go down to that fest-“ He was cut off by his good old fashioned lover boy putting a finger to his lips, hushing him, and pointing to their three now-sleeping children. “Ohh..” He whispered, his heart practically melting at the sight.

“Aren’t they little angels when they sleep?” Crowley whispered, slinging an arm around Aziraphale’s shoulder, to which he leaned in closer to him.

“Fitting, considering how demonic they can be when awake.” Aziraphale giggled, covering his mouth. “But whatever they are, they’re ours.”

“That includes you, Grim.” Crowley said as he stood up on his tiptoes to ruffle his final child’s skull. “Wyn too.”

“I WOULDN'T WANT IT ANY OTHER WAY.” Death, even though it was nearly impossible to see, smiled.

“Neither would we.” Their fathers said together. 

From then onward, every couple years, an ineffable family would spend a couple days, cooped together in a bookshop, reminiscing and poking fun and laughing together.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Hey y’all should follow me on Tumblr, @BeezandBitches cus sometimes I talk about what i’m writing next! Also this blew up like over night and i’m shook and so grateful so thanks y’all, have a lovely day.


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